


Lucille

by DoctorBilly



Series: Tales from the Billyverse [25]
Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Billyverse, Gen, Post-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-03
Updated: 2015-08-04
Packaged: 2018-04-12 19:30:29
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,065
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4491924
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DoctorBilly/pseuds/DoctorBilly
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>DI Sally Donovan's sergeant finds an abandoned baby. Sally takes an interest, and involves Mycroft Holmes. </p><p>Written for  SFPAC August 2015 </p><p>The 3-word prompt is Hope; Wake; Deletion</p><p>There are three short chapters: each will have one of the prompt words in it, in order.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Hope

**Author's Note:**

> Chapter prompt: Hope
> 
> Chapter tags: reference to drugs; child abandonment.
> 
> This story is set in the Billyverse. Sally has been promoted, Billy has just got out of prison. Luce (OC) is on the cusp of leaving the force to work quietly for Mycroft Holmes. 
> 
> This story is concurrent with the start of [The Irregulars ](http://archiveofourown.org/series/193343)

"What is it, Sarge?"

Luce reaches a long arm out from the canal-bank where he is lying, face-down.

"Don't know, but I thought I heard a bit of a yowl. Puppy, or kitten, maybe…"

He snags the bin-bag floating in the weeds.

"It moved. Let's get it open. Oh, shit…"

"Sarge?"

Luce doesn't stop to explain, takes off at a run. The constable has no chance of keeping up with him. He reaches the street, where Sally Donovan is leaning on her car, drinking coffee, waiting for him to return from conducting a routine interview of a houseboat owner. He gasps for breath in between words.

"Ma'am, we need to move, quick. Hospital. UCH is probably nearest…"

Sally frowns, notes the plastic-wrapped bundle now tucked inside Luce's coat.

"What…"

"I'll explain on the way. Start the engine, ma'am, please."

Sally opens the passenger door for him, runs around to the driver's side of the car. They are moving before Luce has his seatbelt fastened.

"Blues, ma'am. We need blues."

Sally nods, throws the switches that turn on her flashing blue lights and distinctive * _whoop whoop*_ siren. She puts her foot down, exceeding the speed limit, jumping traffic lights, trusting Londoners to get out of her way.

"What is it, Luce?"

"A baby, ma'am. Newborn, by the look of it. "

"Girl or boy?"

"Don't know, ma'am. Didn't want to unwrap it to look. It was in the canal. Hope I found it in time…"

 

*********

 

"Neonatal withdrawal."

Sally frowns at the paediatric specialist's words. The baby, a girl, has been warmed, cleaned up, her umbilical cord tied and cut. She whimpers quietly. She doesn't sound like newborns Sally has encountered before.

"What does that mean? That she's addicted?"

The doctor nods.

"Yes. Foetal Addiction Syndrome. Opiates are indicated. Heroin is likely. Have your people had any luck in tracing the mother, Inspector? She is likely to be in need of treatment herself."

Sally reaches into the transparent crib, strokes the little cheek with one finger.

"Poor little mite. My team are calling her Lucille. After the sergeant who found her. Can you do anything for her?"

She jumps when the doctor gently lifts her hand away. The doctor smiles.

"We're doing what we can. Buprenorphine for pain management. Tight swaddling seems to help somewhat. Dim lighting, as little sensory stimulation as possible."

Sally nods.

"We're looking for the mother. How long will the child be hospitalised?"

"A month, perhaps, if treatment is successful. Social Services will take over, of course, if… when she is discharged."

Sally frowns, decides to keep a close eye on how this child is dealt with by Social Services. She has had to deal with too much fallout from inadequate care and poor supervision during her years in the Met.

"I hope she makes it. Pretty little thing."


	2. Wake

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt word for this chapter:Wake

"Did you know this one?"

Billy Wiggins shakes his head.

"No. I don't know _all_ the homeless kids, Sal."

Sally Donovan smiles tightly.

"I know that, Bill. I just thought…" She nods to the mortuary attendant to wheel the body away. "You knew the last one that was pregnant."

Billy nods.

"Yeah. She stayed at the shelter for a few nights when it was cold. Not this one, though. And Marisha was still pregnant when she went in the river." He frowns. "I wonder what happened to this one's baby…"

Sally waves Billy toward the swing doors. She needs to get out into the fresh air.

"We found an infant, a new-born girl, a couple of days ago. We've been looking for the mother."

"Could it be her?"

"It's possible. The baby is mixed-race." She thrusts her hands into her pockets. "So is this girl. Pathologist reckons she was sixteen, max. And addicted to heroin. How can children end up like this?"

Billy shrugs

"Shit happens."

Sally shakes her shoulders, stretches her spine bones.

"I'll get their DNA tested. Maybe that will give us some answers."

 

*********

 

The senior case worker gestures Sally to a seat.

"I understand the mother was on the streets?"

Sally nods

"Yes. Her name was Jennifer Wallace. We've traced her parents; suburban Manchester. They don't want anything to do with the baby."

"What about the child's father?"

"No clues, I'm afraid. Jennifer was very secretive. None of her school friends knew of a boyfriend. No one knew she was pregnant." Sally frowns. "Apart from the parents. _They_ knew and they threw her out."

Sally had travelled up to Manchester to interview the parents herself. She had not liked them.

 

The social worker smiles.

"You'd be surprised how often that happens."

Sally shakes her head.

"I really wouldn't. Not working where I do. What will happen to the baby?"

"Assuming she survives…" The social worker looks up at Sally's sigh. "More than seventy five percent of babies born addicted do not survive. Add to that her exposure to cold in the canal…"

Sally smiles grimly.

"Let's assume she's a survivor."

The social worker nods and continues.

"She will be fostered and listed for adoption."

"Are the chances of adoption good?"

"Sadly, not as good as they could be. I've had three similar cases fall through in the last few years. People worry about the susceptibility to re-addiction, of course. Being mixed-race won't help her. Being female as well…"

"Really? People don't want girls? In _this_ country?"

"The majority of applicants are white middle-class couples. They want blue-eyed blond boys. Of which there are very few. We do our best, Inspector, but candidly, and off the record, this little girl is likely to find herself in a succession of foster homes and care homes, and…"

"And on the streets and back on drugs herself by the time she's sixteen." Sally stands, gathers up her coat and prepares to leave. "I'd like to be kept up to date with her progress…"

The social worker smiles.

"You found her?"

"My sergeant, Lucien Thompkiss."

"Ah.  _That's_ why we're calling her Lucille." The social worker looks at Sally speculatively. "We always need foster parents …"

Sally shakes her head, laughs. "I'm too busy.  My job takes up all my time."

The social worker smiles.

"It was worth a try."

 

*********

 

Luce weaves through the crowd around the bonfire in the Camden homeless shelter yard. He reaches Sally, on the edge of the crowd, hands her a bottle of cider.

"Thanks, Luce. I haven't been to a fireworks party for years."

Luce grins.

"Bill wants to have a do like this on Guy Fawkes night every year. He reckons that the homeless deserve a party as much as anyone else does."

Sally looks around.

"There's a lot of them. I didn't realise there were so many kids…"

"We've lost a few though." Billy has crept up quietly. He sits on an upturned crate. "There's been five ' _accidents'_ since I got out of Wakefield. That's five kids that we knew. Dunno how many others. And that's just in a couple of months."

Sally scowls.

"And you've made it less likely that we'll close their cases by pinching our best sergeant."

Billy laughs.

"I haven't pinched him. He made his own decision to leave the Met. And he hasn't _quite_ left yet…"

Luce smiles, puts a large hand on Billy's shoulder.

"I don't like the way cases are prioritised, Ma'am. I don't like it that coroners declare accidental deaths so often…"

Sally nods.

"I don't like it either, Luce. But _I_ haven't had a better offer."

Billy gets up.

"Got to go and make a speech. We decided to remember all the homeless who've died this year. Have a bit of a wake for them. Give them a bit of a send-off."

Sally and Luce follow as Billy pushes through the crowd. Someone helps him up onto a picnic table. Someone else hands him a bunch of flowers. Petrol-station chrysanthemums, nothing special. As he calls out each name, each memorial, he throws a flower, straight-armed, into the crowd. Hands reach for them, pass them overhead, toss them into the flames.

Billy reaches the end of his list, calls to Sally.

"What was her name? The baby's mum?"

"Jennifer Wallace."

Billy throws one last flower.

"Jennifer Wallace. Rest in peace."

From somewhere in the crowd, a deep bass voice begins to sing. Everyone knows this song. Slowly, others join in until the whole crowd are singing in unison. Sally looks around. She is not the only one with a tear in her eye. People hug each other as the song ends. Someone brings out mugs of soup from the shelter kitchen. Homeless men and women huddle by the fire, Billy's Irregulars and Sally's Yarders keep watch. No one will move anyone on tonight.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The homeless sang [this song ](http://youtu.be/OV5_LQArLa0)
> 
>  
> 
> Guy Fawkes Night is November 5th. It is celebrated with bonfires and fireworks in Britain.


	3. Deletion

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter prompt: Deletion
> 
> (If you're expecting Sherlock-style deletion, sorry. Not this time. )

"Donovan."

" _Inspector, you asked to be kept informed about baby Lucille…_ "

Sally unlocks her car and slides in behind the wheel. She has had another heavy day, had been looking forward to going home to a long, hot soak and a trashy novel. She sighs, expecting trouble.

"Yes. How is she?"

" _Things are not going well. She has not settled with foster parents, and has been hospitalised again…_ "

"What? Why?"

" _Bouts of prolonged screaming, hours, with no apparent cause. Not colic. Possibly related to her dependence on drugs in the womb. We have tried three different foster homes in the two weeks since she left hospital. All have refused to carry on with her."_

"What will happen, then?"

" _There is one residential care home that takes babies and has a vacancy. It is in Newcastle…_ "

"No. She can't go into a children's home this young. "

The social worker sighs down the phone.

" _There is no alternative, I am afraid."_

Sally thinks about the people she knows, people with _influence_.

"Don't send her off today, please."

" _We don't have any other option, Inspector."_

"I'll find you one."

 

*********

 

"Can you do it,sir?"

Mycroft Holmes gazes across his desk, expressionless. He is more than a little annoyed that Sally Donovan has been able to find him in his deep cover. He suspects that one ex-DCI Gregor Lestrade may have had something to do with it. He makes a mental note to _have words_ with Lestrade. And to have a security detail assigned to Sally Donovan.  

"Yes. It would be a simple matter of deletion of certain records."

Sally holds her breath. Mycroft goes on.

"Now tell me why I _should_ do it."

"Because I don't want her growing up in care if I can do something about it, sir."

"She is unlikely to be placed with adoptive parents?"

"According to social services.  And she's had three foster homes already. She needs stability. And the chance of a better life than her mother had."

Mycroft taps a finger against his cheekbone.

"Do you plan to give up your work to take care of the child?"

"No. I'd need to work, to afford to keep her. I'd want specialist nursery care, and I don't think that will come cheap. I expect there's someone you could recommend, sir. Your son Lennox was a bit difficult as a baby, wasn't he?"

"I wouldn't say _difficult_. But yes, there were some challenges. You've been speaking to my brother, I imagine?"

"Yes sir. Groundwork, sir."

"Indeed. Which records do you wish to have deleted, Inspector?"

"Transcripts of my meetings with the social worker. Especially the part where I described how my job would make it impossible for me even to foster." She considers. "The part where I agreed off-the-record that the child would probably end up on the streets. She wrote it down. So much for off-the-record. It made me sound callous and uncaring. Her family connections. Her mother's parents don't deserve to know their granddaughter."

Mycroft smiles. It terrifies Sally.

"You want adoption expedited…"

"Yes."

"What can I expect in return for my assistance, Ms Donovan?"

Sally shakes her head.

"I don't know. _Anything_."

Mycroft barks out a laugh.

"Anything? Oh, my dear. That is _very_ generous."

Sally grins, putting up a front.

"You'll ask me to do whatever it is you need me to do…"

"Hmm. Yes. If something should arise that needs your particular skill set."

Mycroft smiles, his face softening. 

"We will need to adjust the child's records. Replace, rather than redact. It would not do to have a deletion appear too obvious. What will you call the child?"

"Lucille."

Mycroft nods.

"A middle name might be appropriate…"

Sally smiles.

"Jennifer. Lucille Jennifer Donovan."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The idea that Sally has a daughter came to me while I was researching the final (as yet unwritten) story in my "Irregulars" saga. SFPAC nudged me into thinking about how it happened.


End file.
